100 Donuts
by riddled.answer
Summary: 100 Donuts Doumeki/Watanuki drabbles.
1. Drabble 1 Silk

Hello all! This is the first in an ongoing series of 100 Donuts drabbles. I have a few more written, and they can be found on my LJ page (see my profile for link).

I hope you all will enjoy them, and I would appreciate your reviews, comments, etc.

I do not own the characters in these works of fiction. They are the property of the group of mangakas known as CLAMP.

* * *

Watanuki's skin was not like silk. Silk, as far as Doumeki had experienced, is smooth and there is no variation. Sure, the texture is pleasant, but your fingertips feel the same cold smoothness until they trail off the fabric. Silk is far too…predictable, too static, to be comparable at all to anything of Watanuki's. Every bit of Watanuki is unpredictable, full of nervous energy and the hum of life; He dips and curves and dances and dodges, hides in open sight and somehow succeeds to do it all within a series of momentary whirlwinds that blend into eternity.

Watanuki's skin is no different from his personality. Run your fingers over it and you'd discover the bumps of lean muscles, the unexpected dips where his bones were a little two close to the surface, the slight brail-raise of old and nearly invisible scars, the shudder of a breath drawn in too quickly that spreads ripples over his whole being. Because everything, everything he did, everything he does, ripples out, affecting, shifting, changing everything. In Watanuki himself, in the world, and in Doumeki.

No, Doumeki decides, silk is far too stagnant to be comparable in any way.

But perhaps, the most convincing argument of why silk cannot possibly compare is because Doumeki knows for a fact that silk does not taste anywhere near as good as Watanuki's skin.

~~*~~


	2. Drabble 2 First Kiss

Gah! I always forget to do the disclaimer!!! Mea culpa, peeps!

I don't own any of the characters that may appear in this work of fiction.

Please note that these aren't in chronological order and indeed, some of them may not even be the same "universe" so to speak.

* * *

First Kiss

As far as first kisses go, it was nothing Hallmark would approve of. Noses were bumped painfully, teeth clacked against each other disconcertingly, and Watanuki was convinced his neck would have a permanent crick in it from the awkward angle the gigantic oaf had so thoughtlessly forced his head into. He was not at all aroused by the feel of swapped spit dribbling down his chin. Doumeki's grip on him was too desperate, so possessive it was crushing and he winced at the bruises he just knew were forming on his hip. Oh, and his calves were cramping from standing on tip toe for so long.

Although, he had to admit, he wasn't any better at it, Watanuki's own tongue seemed too reckless, almost as if trying to bat away the other appendage in his mouth and his entire top row of teeth. He belatedly realized that he'd just eaten a large helping of garlic bread, and he probably didn't taste very good at the moment. When he'd tried to get more aggressive, he'd ended up knocking their chins together in a way that nearly cut off someone's tongue. He wasn't sure how to breathe in this whole process, and thus his breaths were reduced to irregular and desperate snorts through his nostrils.

It was so clumsy, as they stuttered and stumbled without speaking, as they tripped over the other's feet while standing still. It was so honest it rubbed his insides raw, it was messy and urgent, creating almost as much stress as it relieved, yet he tightened his grip and smiled against the other's lips, because, although it wasn't Hollywood, and it wasn't perfect, it was so THEM that he never wanted it to end.

* * *

Thank you to all of you who put this story on your alert lists! And thank you to S2Lou who was the first and only person to review! Thank you thank you thank you!


	3. Drabble 3 Photograph

I own none of the characters present in this work of fiction.

* * *

Photograph

On a shelf in Yuuko's ever-in-need-of-cleaning storage room, there sits an elaborate picture frame. Entwining golden and teal wires criss-crossed in impossible patterns of barbs and barriers. The frame gave the impression of chaos and battle, as if the two colors were not at peace, but rather fighting, forcing, pushing, against each other in an unending and unrelenting duel. Watanuki pondered the frame as he cleaned the room that day, because, although it is so prominently displayed, there is no picture sitting inside it. Just a blank piece of white cardboard (although he was fairly suspect that it wasn't JUST cardboard. It IS in Yuuko's shop, after all).

"Do you want to know about it," A voice husky with smoke and magic, wafted like incense against his skin.

Shrieking, Watanuki turned to glare at his boss/slave driver/ dubious mother figure. "DON'T DO THAT!"

Yuuko merely smirked, "I'll tell you ALL about it…for a price."

Watanuki snorted. "I don't care."

"Of course you don't," She said, every word in the sentence flowing slowly and sinuously out her mouth in molasses strings.

As he stomped through the hall to leave for the day, Watanuki paused by the bags he'd carried in that day, his slight hesitancy taking the shape of a faint blush on his cheeks.

"Ahhhhh, that's right. It's Doumeki's birthday today, isn't it?"

His back stiffened and it was hard to tell if those were shivers running down his spine or if he truly had hackles that were being raised. "Wh-wh-what of it!?"

The dimension witch smiled knowingly and handed him another gift bag. "Give him my gift before you give him yours, won't you? Wa~Ta~Nu~Ki-kuuuun."

The red that colored his face was truly a sight to behold. "I-I'm not- What makes you think- I'd never-"

She silenced his sputtering with a push out the door that he hadn't realized had been nearby, "Hitsuzen, darling. It's Hitsuzen. Have fuuuuuuuuuuuun!!!"

Once her apprentice was out of sight, she let a truly fond smile cross her lips. "Let's see what these events will bring."

//

The next morning, Yuuko beamed at the frame in the storage room. The two twining colors had calmed and softened, almost as if holding each other in perfect harmony, and a picture of the two boys cuddled together inside the Doumeki shrine had appeared at the center of the frame.

A warm contentment spread through her as her maternal love for her charge swelled in her heart. Of course, even though she was happy for him, that certainly didn't stop her from relentlessly teasing him about his sudden case of "severe back pain."


	4. Drabble 4 Bandaid

If I only owned holic

* * *

Theme 4 Band-aid

"Damn slave driver, making me sew an entire FRICKIN' Kimono BY HAND!!" Watanuki cursed as the silver needle in his hand dived and bobbed through the gorgeous fabric in his lap.

At first, he'd marveled over the project. The silk fabric shone even in dim light, and the thread to be used looked like spun gold.

The wonder had quickly dissipated when she handed him a pattern and the most vicious needle he'd ever seen. Wincing as the needle once again bit into his fingers, he gave an aggravated growl. His hands were covered in pin pricks and blood, both fresh and dried, as Yuuko had not let him take any breaks at all. It had been a full twenty-four hours since he'd begun.

Knotting and breaking off the thread, he crowed triumphantly before throwing the finished garment to the floor. And if there were multiple areas that were slightly rust colored (which there were) Yuuko could damn well DEAL with it!

Stalking out of the shop he paused to see Doumeki sitting on the ground by the lamp post, asleep. The slight stink that wafted at Watanuki as he approached let him know that Doumeki had probably been waiting there the entire time he'd been in the shop.

Raising a well-pricked hand, he shook the other boy awake. "Baka. You could have at least gone home and bathed."

Groggily, Doumeki blinked up at him. "Wha?"

Watanuki rolled his eyes. "You stink." The fact that Watanuki probably had a similar scent clinging to him was irrelevant. HE hadn't had a choice. The damn archer had.

The young seer flinched when Doumeki caught his hand. "You're hurt!?"

Thus a rant was prompted, involving flesh eating needles, evil witches and ways to destroy both aforementioned subjects. It was a truly righteous and angry soliloquy that was cut short by a yelp as the speaker was yanked into his audience's lap.

Watanuki's face turned as red as his hand when Doumeki's warm tongue bathed his skin, golden eyes boring into his own intensely. And if Watanuki's breathing and heart rate picked up slightly, well that was merely indignation. So were the keening whines….really, they were.

Pulling band-aids out of his bag, Doumeki covered every wound with the bandage, then his own lips.

"Why did you…" Watanuki trailed off, both hating and thrilling at how weak and breathy his voice sounded.

"You kiss a wound to make it heal faster."

And when Doumeki's mouth crushed over his in a brutal, eating kiss, Watanuki couldn't bring himself to protest that his mouth was perfectly fine. Besides, it would probably be bruised after the damn archer was finished anyway.

Maybe the smug bastard would even kiss it better again….


End file.
